


His Best Friend

by Killer_Queen



Series: The Basement [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avenger Loki (Marvel), Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov Friendship, Gen, Jotunn Loki (Marvel), Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, friends - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2019-09-01
Packaged: 2020-10-04 14:50:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20472842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Killer_Queen/pseuds/Killer_Queen
Summary: Loki seems to have a tendency for being set upon, and Natasha, as always, picks him back up.





	His Best Friend

**Author's Note:**

> I tried to take a very different approach with this fic, so it works as a standalone, along with a few things that tie it back to the rest of the series. Hope you enjoy :)

Natasha raised her leg high, feeling her muscles tense correctly and loosen again as she lowered it. Even though it had been a long time, it felt good to get her ballet shoes out again. It felt good to be doing something that didn’t involve blood, guts or bullets. In fact, just being away from home felt like a relief. She loved home, of course... But, every once in a while, she liked to venture further into the city and discover all that it had to offer. Today she had stumbled across a sturdy if not a little bland dance studio, owned by a sturdy if not a little bland man. A man who was poor and spoke little English. There was something off about him, but she didn’t push it. He didn’t charge her nearly enough, but he wouldn’t let her pay more. Fifty dollars in cash and the little room was her’s for a week.

Loki was being beaten.  
Bashed.  
Beaten.  
Well, it wasn’t like he hadn’t been beaten before.  
Oh, how he wished that he had just stayed home. Going to venture out had been a very bad idea. A very, very bad idea. And why had he even considered walking into an alley way? Sometimes he felt stupider than Thor. The man hitting him was tall, if not a little elderly. His dark hair was greying and his brown skin a bit wrinkly, but his muscles bulged, and, taken by surprise, Loki found that fighting off his crowbar was quite challenging.

The music was calming for Natasha. Soothing. Familiar. She stretched out her arms like a swan and pretended to fly away, away from her troubles and away from the stress of her life. It brought back a memory, not too long ago, of her and Clint standing in a corridor. That was the moment that she stopped worrying about pleasing him. About pleasing anyone, for that matter. That was the moment that she realised that, if she stuck to it, she could make anyone accept her.  
Those who didn’t accept her weren’t usually around long anyway.

Pain was Loki’s world now. Pain. Pain. Agony. Pain. There were too many blows to count now. Just blows, over and over. He was struggling, flaying his arms and kicking his legs, trying to push the man away. He was shouting at him in a foreign language. In his panic, he couldn’t focus his mind enough to understand the words. He opened his eyes for a moment, and saw the man glaring at him. The next words were clearer. He had heard them many times.  
“You are a monster.”

Natasha was finished. The dance was coming along nicely, but, sometimes, it was better to let it rest. She massaged her thighs gently, before undoing her shoes. She eased her feet out, before slipping her jeans and jacket back over her leotard. She reached up and unconsciously undid the bun she had tied her hair into. She pulled out each pin, slipping them into her pocket. She put everting into her bag, taking her time. There was no need to rush.

Something finally clicked in Loki’s mind, and he remembered how to fight back. He remembered how to kick, how to punch and how to tackle. He stopped the next blow, realising as he did so that the crowbar wasn’t a crowbar at all, but a heavy and sharp piece of wood; a poor man’s crowbar. He grabbed it as the man tried to bring it down on him, and yanked it out of his hands. He pushed it up, up, up. The man bagged as the blow hit his stomach, and fell back. Look struggled to his feet, steadying himself as the man got up again. He looked like he was going to have another go. He lunged towards him, but Loki thrust out the stick threateningly. Suddenly, the man stopped, just staring at him.  
“Go.” Loki hissed. The man ran. He ran and ran. He bolted. He ran with such terror in his eyes that Loki for a moment wondered if he’d seen a ghost. 

Natasha walked down the steps from the studio, and saw the owner coming towards her. She smiled and waved, and saw him panting.  
“Are you alright?” She asked. The man nodded.  
“I am fine.” He said, but this didn’t convince Natasha. He was clutching at his stomach, and he looked... Frightened. But Natasha didn’t push it. She kept walking, reaching the door, opening, and closing it. 

Loki wondered why the man had looked so terrified, but he didn’t really care. He felt something wet running down his face. He was bleeding. Darn it. He felt other pains, too. His shoulders were aching, his head throbbed and the rest of his body felt as though it had been trampled by a heard of rhinos. He raised his arm and wiped away some of the blood, then quickly lowered it. He knew why the man had ran.  
The hand he had raised was blue.

It didn’t take Natasha long to find trouble. Scattered boxes, disturbed piles of junk. Both evidence of a struggle. She peered closer, unable to resist the urge to investigate. There was a wooden stick on the ground, one she recognised as the owner of the studio’s. Looking closer, she saw blood in both the stick and the ground around it. She sucked in her breath, wondering if the poor old man had gotten into a fight. The blood droplets seemed to be leading somewhere... She followed them. It wasn’t a long trail. There was a hollow in the worn brick work, filled with flattened cardboard and other worthless items. Sitting in the hollow was someone who clearly didn’t want to be found. Natasha couldn’t blame him. She wouldn’t want to be seen with blood all over her face either, with tangled hair, torn clothes, newly forming bruises and a split lip. Let alone the blue skin... Wait... Blue skin? She looked properly. Oh no.

Loki didn’t know where Natasha had come from. Why did she have to find him like this? Broken, weak and ugly? A monster! She was talking, but he couldn’t really hear her. But he did see her put out her hand, reaching for his arm.  
“No!” He called out, pulling his hand away. Suddenly, he could hear.  
“Come on, Loki. We’re going home.” Natasha said impatiently. He kept his hands away. He didn’t want to hurt her! Never, never in this form, had he ever touched someone. He could imagine the frost and tears only too well.  
“You’re getting fixed up.”  
Loki still refused.  
“What happened?” The red-haired woman asked. Loki found himself blurting it out like a child.  
“Nobody can see me like this.” He whispered, and there was a terror in his voice that made Natasha shudder. He wiped some of the blood out of his eyes.  
“Loki, come on.”  
Loki still refused.  
But Natasha insisted. And, before he could react, she’d grabbed his hand.  
Nothing happened.  
His best friend pulled him up, lead him out of the alley, and warded off all those who stared and sneered at him.

**Author's Note:**

> For those who have read the entire series:
> 
> First off, thanks for reading!
> 
> How did you like the Jotun Loki?


End file.
